Blood Wedding

Molly was sitting nearby, watching him. She raised herself to float closer, and when she got beside him, she reached under the water and grasped a part of him that was standing at attention.

“I thought you might be in that condition,” she said. “Even after all that just happened to us, you’re still as stiff as a fence post.”

Fargo nodded and said, “It’s your fault. Looking at you got me that way.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to do something about it,” Molly said.

She turned to straddle him and sat on his rod, letting it slide right into her. Even in the water she was slick and ready for him. When she had settled herself on him, her large breasts flattened against his chest, the nipples poking into him like small hot stones.

“You have a lot of scars,” she said, putting her finger on one. “Where’d you get that?”

“I picked it up from a grizzly.”

“Does he have a scar, too?”

“Nope,” Fargo said. “He’s dead.”

“I’m not surprised,” Molly said, giving a little wiggle. “How are we going to do this?”

“I figure we’ll find a way,” Fargo said.

“I bet you’re right,” Molly said, and she pressed the palms of her hands on the tops of his shoulders, raising and lowering herself on him. Her body was buoyant in the water, and a couple of times she almost bounced too high, but Fargo held onto her hips so that she didn’t slip away.

It wasn’t long before she was churning the water into a froth. Her head fell back, and she opened her mouth. Fargo knew what was about to happen, but he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. He was about at his own limit, and when she started yelling, he shot into her, bucking up off the bottom of the pool with each volley.

“YeeeeeHaaaaaaw! YeeeeeHaaaaaw!” Molly cried, kicking out with her legs on either side of Fargo and sending little waves to the shore.

When she was finished, she collapsed against him, and they sat quietly for a minute or so.

“I hope Murray didn’t hear that,” Molly said.

Fargo hoped so, too. He figured Molly had frightened the wildlife for a couple of miles around.

“We’d better clean up and get out of here,” he said, and they did, washing out their clothes and putting them on wet. It was uncomfortable, but Fargo didn’t think it would be smart to hang around there much longer.

By the time they were dressed, it was dusk, and the bats started to come out of the cave. At first there were only a few of them, but within a couple of minutes there were so many that they formed a black cloud overhead. The humming of their wings filled the air as they flew away, shadowed against the darkening sky and showing no interest at all in Fargo and Molly.

“I told you they wouldn’t tangle in your hair,” Fargo said.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like them.” Molly shuddered. “Let’s get out of here.”

They started walking. Fargo looked back after they were well away from the pool, and bats were still flying out of the cave. There had been thousands of them in there, he thought.

Molly didn’t look back. She wanted to know where they were going.

“To get us some horses. Judging from what you told me, I figure it’s too far back to the farms to walk.”

“Yes, but I don’t know where we’re getting any horses.”

“From Murray. He might even have my horse there. I’d like to have him back.”

“How can you find the entrance to the cave we were in?”

“I can find it. You might say being able to do things like that is the business I’m in.”

“What business is that?”

Fargo explained a little bit about what being a Trailsman meant and how he’d spent most of his life guiding people from one place to another, finding trails others couldn’t, and getting out of places most people didn’t even go.

“Like that cave,” Molly said.

“Not like that. I’d just as soon never have to do anything like that again.”

“You sure have an instinct for it. I never thought we’d get out of there, but I’m glad I trusted you.”

Fargo didn’t say that there was an element of luck involved. If she wanted to believe he could find a trail even in darkness so black that you couldn’t see, then let her. Besides, he thought, there might even be some truth in it.

He had a lot less trouble finding the horses than he’d had finding a way out of the caverns, and it didn’t take as long. The horses were hobbled in a little grove of trees not far from the entrance to the cave where Murray and his men were hiding out. Among them was Fargo’s Ovaro.

Fargo and Molly crouched on top of the hill, and the cave was below them. Night had fallen, but the moon was coming up, making the landscape seem almost to be shining in bright daylight compared to the darkness of the cave. There was the glow of a fire from inside Murray’s hideout.

“Does he have a guard on the horses?” Molly whispered.

Fargo didn’t see anybody, but that didn’t mean there was no one there.

“Maybe so, maybe not. We’ll sit here awhile and watch.”